• » Name: Meka Soul
• » Location: Los Angeles, CA
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Slap-Boxing With Jesus

Hip-Hop: Not For Old People?

Seeing as how I’m a lot closer to 30 than I am 20 nowadays, I’ve lately felt the need to switch up a couple of my lifestyle choices. Whereas spending money (or jumping in the line early enough to get in for free) for a night of dry humping at some random-ass club used to be my choice du jour, I now find myself preferring a night with friends getting shitfaced at the local Chili’s. I’ve obviously left the safe – and rent-free – confines of my mom’s house for Inglewood, and I’ve exchanged the months upon months of summer and winter vacations for eleven state-regulated days off work, give or take a few paid vacations. Hell, I’ve even dropped the quadruple-extra large shirts for sizes that’s less muumuu-like. That’s not to say I’ve gone entirely corporate; I still have more sneakers than suits, still somewhat of a scatterbrain and my arm hurts from the tattoo I recently received. But if there’s one thing I’ve noticed about myself the most, it’s my change in musical tastes. Whereas the likes of Coast II Coast and Dogg Food would get major burn in my iPod, I’ve now taken an interest in the soulful and worldly sounds I was raised on before my sister was crazy enough to buy me a copy of Please, Hammer, Don’t Hurt ‘Em.

I can’t remember exactly where I saw it, but a while back I read somewhere that hip-hop has an issue with growing up. I’ve always found its reluctance to stay in a club interesting, considering that most of its core audience moved out and into a boardroom. Not to mention that some of the better songs I’ve heard within the past two years are by rappers who are closer to 40 than I am (Clipse, anyone?). And while so-called “80s babies” (why didn’t you add that to the list, Brill?) like to bitch and moan about the old heads not wanting to give up their shine to them, I find it odd that they refuse to acknowledge the puppet masters behind the scenes, not to mention some of the prominent producers are well into their thirties. If anybody thinks for a second that a hump like Sickamore (who I personally blame for annihilating Lupe’s album promotion as well as stalling out Saigon’s career, but I digress) holds any significant weight in this arena has got to be out of their fucking mind. To paraphrase a Chris Rock skit I heard on regular c-boy Advakit’s mixtape I received a few days ago, while a rapper may be rich, the person who signs their checks is wealthy (and obviously an old TI).

If anything, the younger generation’s disrespect for the older heads of the game can be a bit unsettling. Had it not been for them, the kids would not have this means of expression today, nor would it have had such a substantial impact on them to boot. But it’s not like I give three-eighths of a shit; I’ll take a 70s baby over these young broads any day of the week.

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